Help Me Help You
by Smackalicious
Summary: Ziva comes over to help McGee with a minor injury, and reveals something about herself in the process. Oneshot. Fluff, pre-romance? McGiva!


**Title: Help Me Help You**  
><strong>Pairing: McGeeZiva**  
><strong>Rating: FR7<strong>  
><strong>Genre: Fluff, Friendship, pre-Romance? <strong>  
><strong>Cat: Het<strong>  
><strong>Spoilers: None.<strong>  
><strong>Warnings: None.<strong>  
><strong>Summary: Ziva comes over to help McGee with a minor injury, and reveals something about herself in the process.<strong>  
><strong>Author's Note: I wanted to write McGiva fluff and this was not really what I had in mind, but meh. Based off the prompt, Jethro the DogMcGee/ice pack. I wrote this awhile ago & never uploaded it here. Just a little McGiva snack for those waiting for another Tower chapter. ;)**

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><p>"Jethro, no!" McGee called out, right before he tripped over a raised piece of sidewalk, succeeding in twisting his ankle and falling to the ground. The dog finally stopped when he noticed McGee was no longer following him, looking back and barking at his owner.<p>

McGee groaned and sat up, rubbing his throbbing ankle. Jethro cocked his head to the side and then jogged back to McGee, barking again as he reached his side.

McGee grimaced as he tried to stand up. "Sorry, boy, looks like we're gonna have to cut our walk short today." Jethro seemed to understand what he said, as he sat down and let out a plaintive whine. McGee sighed. "Yeah, I'm not really excited about my ankle being twisted, either," he muttered, then sucked in a deep breath before pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the pain as he did so. He leaned over to grab Jethro's leash, and they were on their way, albeit more slowly than before.

Twenty minutes passed and they arrived back at their home, McGee panting almost as much as Jethro as he reached his apartment door, unlocked it and hobbled inside. As soon as he closed the door, his phone rang. He jolted at the sound, then let out a breath and answered the call.

"McGee," he said, groaning inwardly at how winded he sounded.

"McGee, are you alright?" It was Ziva.

"Hey, Ziva," he responded, trying to even his breathing. "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I just . . . twisted my ankle while taking Jethro for a walk. Not a big deal."

He waited for her response and could tell, even though she wasn't speaking, that she didn't believe him. "I am coming over," she finally said, and he let out a sigh.

"Ziva, I'm fine," he insisted. "You don't have to treat me like a child. I can take care of myself." As soon as he said the words, he regretted them, realizing they would come off as him being ungrateful and not wanting her help.

"McGee, I know you can take care of yourself," Ziva said, and McGee let out a breath when he realized she wasn't offended. "Perhaps I would just like to see you."

"And see for yourself, right?" he said, and she laughed.

"I will be there shortly," she said, and with that, ended the call.

McGee sighed to himself, but couldn't help but smile. It really wasn't a big deal, but it was nice to know Ziva cared. He hopped on his good foot into the kitchen to find a bag of frozen vegetables or something to put on his sore ankle, but when he opened his freezer, he frowned at the lack of vegetables and preponderance of frozen pizzas. He really didn't want Ziva to walk in to him holding a pizza to his leg.

But he didn't have to, as he soon heard a knock followed by, "Do not bother coming to the door, McGee. I can let myself in." The door opened before McGee even had a chance to say anything and McGee narrowed his eyes at Ziva, who stood with a paper grocery bag in one arm.

"What, were you waiting right outside or something?" he asked, and she scoffed at him, closing the door behind her and walking over to the kitchen, depositing the bag on the counter and withdrawing things like she lived there.

"Do not be silly, McGee," she said. "I only live a few minutes away. All I had to do was throw some things into a bag and drive over."

"Ziva, I got off the phone with you like two minutes ago!" McGee said, and Ziva waved a hand at him in dismissal of his comment.

"How quickly I got here is not important," she insisted, shaking a thermometer at him, which made him raise an eyebrow at her.

"Why do you have a thermometer?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes and turned back to her bag, not answering his question. He sighed. "Sorry. I'll . . . go get in bed. Unless you have different orders for me."

"Do you want my help or not, McGee?" Ziva asked, trying to sound angry, but she really couldn't be angry with McGee. He was just so . . . cute when he was hurt. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and found him pouting and couldn't keep the smile from her face. She turned to face him. "Go get in bed. I will be in in a moment to check on you."

He smiled and shook his head. "You really don't have to be here, Ziva . . ." Her eyes started to narrow and he quickly added, "But I'm really glad you are. Thank you."

"Anything to help . . . a friend," she said after a moment, and McGee lifted an eyebrow slightly at the pause in her statement, but shook it off. He was just allowing his investigative side to come out, he supposed. "Do you need help walking, McGee?"

"Nah, I'll be okay," he said as he started the slow trip to his bedroom, but the wince on his face made Ziva rush to his side, sliding an arm around his waist. He smiled and looked down at her. "Thanks."

"Not as okay as you thought, yes?" she said as she helped him into his bedroom, only releasing him when they reached his bed and he sat down on it. "Now, let me see that ankle." McGee didn't even try arguing with her, allowing her to remove his shoe and carefully prod at his injury. She clucked her tongue at the injury, causing McGee to peer over the bed at her.

"What? Is it worse than you thought? Do I have to go to the hospital?"

Ziva smiled at his panic. She couldn't help it. It was just so cute. "No, this will not require a hospital visit. It does not look broken. Though I am not a doctor, so . . ."

"Ziva," McGee whined, and she stood up, but leaned over to take his face in her hands.

"Do not worry. I will take care of you." She then leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips without thinking about it, but seemed to realize what she did when she pulled back, as she suddenly backed away from him and announced, "Ah, I will be back with some ice for your ankle." She left the bedroom, leaving McGee looking slightly dazed by the whole experience.

In the kitchen, Ziva shook her head to herself as she removed a bag of ice from the bag of supplies she had brought with her. She just felt so stupid, because she hadn't really been thinking, and now McGee was going to get the wrong idea . . . And it wouldn't even _be _a wrong idea at all, because she knew what she wanted, but now she was going to have to deal with the fallout and it would be awkward and -

"Ziva?"

The sound of McGee's voice broke her train of thoughts and she shook her head again. This was stupid. They were adults and he probably hadn't even thought twice about it. It would be fine. Ziva nodded to herself and grabbed the ice, walking back to the bedroom.

"The ice," Ziva announced as she returned, and McGee looked up at her, giving her a tiny smile. "Do you have a towel or something I could use . . .?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said, gesturing behind her. "There are some in the bathroom."

"Thank you," she said, and stepped out to grab a hand towel, feeling better about the situation.

"Ziva, can I ask you a question?"

Until he said that.

Ziva stepped back into the room, doing her best to stay calm. "Of course," she said, walking to the edge of the bed and kneeling down, applying the ice pack to McGee's ankle.

"Why did you call me earlier?" he asked, and Ziva sat back and looked up at him. She hadn't been expecting that.

"Ah, I suppose I . . . just wanted to talk to you," she said, giving a shrug and turning her attention back to his ankle.

"Ziva . . ." McGee said, knowing there was more to it than what she was telling him. He hated to push her, but he needed her to be honest with him.

"Do I need a reason to speak with you?" she asked, not looking up from his foot.

"No, of course not, and I'm really glad you're here, but . . ." He let out a sigh. "You know, never mind. It's none of my business and I'm just upsetting you. Forget it."

Ziva kept quiet for another moment, then spoke. "No. You have a right to know, and we should be honest with each other. And you're not upsetting me." She gave him a small smile. "I have been keeping, ah, my true feelings, I guess you could say, from you."

McGee took a minute to process what she was saying, then raised an eyebrow at her. "You like me?"

Ziva let out a laugh. "If you wish to put it that way." He didn't say anything for a minute, and Ziva began to feel uncomfortable. She shifted in her spot. "It is not a big deal, though, and I do not expect that anything will come from it."

"Why not?" McGee asked automatically, and Ziva gave him a look. He gave her a pointed look in return. "Do you not want me to ask you out, or did you want to do it yourself?"

She gave him a confused smile. "No, I will allow you to - I just did not pick you as the type to break rules so easily, that is all."

His lips upturned into a smirk. "Well, nobody has to know." Ziva's smile faded then, and McGee mentally kicked himself. "I don't mean to say that I wouldn't _want _people to know, because obviously, I'm not ashamed of you -"

"I know what you meant, McGee," Ziva assured him. She looked up at him. "So where do we go from here?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not going anywhere at the moment," McGee said, and Ziva shook her head as they both laughed at his corny joke. Ziva pushed herself to her feet then, causing McGee to lean over to hold the ice pack to his ankle, but look up at her. "You're leaving already? Oh. Um, well, thanks for stopping by . . ."

She shook her head then, motioning for him to move over. He raised an eyebrow and lifted his legs up onto the bed, taking special care with his injured ankle, then slid over, smiling a little as Ziva sat down on the bed next him so she was lounging next to him. "There," she said, smiling at the amused look on McGee's face. "Did you really think I was leaving so soon?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "I'm not the best company right now. Can't really do much of anything . . ."

"I can think of some things we could do . . ." Ziva said suggestively, and McGee's cheeks turned pink. Ziva saw his reaction and laughed. "Relax. I meant that we could watch a movie or," she shrugged, "we could just talk."

He gave her a dubious look. "You want to just sit here and talk to me?"

"I would be talking _with _you, McGee," Ziva responded, tapping him on the nose, and added, "Besides, I like you."

McGee smiled at that. "I like you, too, Ziva."

She grinned at him, then peered over at his ankle. "But first we should finish taking care of that." She stood up again and padded out into the kitchen as McGee leaned back again, lacing his fingers together and placing them behind his head.

"I think I could get used to this," he said to himself.

In the kitchen, Ziva pulled out a roll of bandaging from her bag and paused to look around the apartment, smiling. "I think I could get used to this," she murmured to herself, then headed back to McGee's bedroom, ready to begin the first night of what she hoped was their new life together.

**THE END!**

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><p><em>AN: Aw, they're so cute & fluffy. :D I hope to have another chapter of The Tower up later today! Better get cracking on that. ;)_


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